I Am Yours - A Tom Hiddleston One Shot
by sherekahnsgirl
Summary: Smut. Just smut. No plot. Dominant Tom, D/s, Spanking, Orgasm control, erotica, smut.


A/N: 18+

Smut. It's just smut. No socially redeeming value whatsoever.

"Open for me, love."

His husky whisper in her ear was the first thing Catherine heard very early that morning.

"Tom, I'm not even awake . . ." It really wasn't a protest but much more towards a soft whine. She was curled up in tight a ball on her left side, and he was gently rocking his hardness against her bottom, left bare to him as it was by the way her short gown had bunched up around her waist while she was sleeping.

He'd conceded earlier in their relationship, however reluctantly, that she could wear a nightie to sleep in - never pants or shorts that would deny him access - and he entirely disallowed panties of any kind in their bed, too. He liked keeping her at a disadvantage, as if his superior height and strength weren't enough. He adored having the ability - sanctioned by her, of course - to take her at will, in or out of their bed - or house - and he availed himself of it quite often.

That led to them having sex in some very interesting, probably extremely illegal places, and he knew each time it was a challenge to Cat's submission to him, as she could be surprisingly staid in some ways

"Good," came his reply, in a tone that was rougher still and with a tinge of threat he knew would send shivers down her spine. "Then you won't be able to fight me. Just obey me and you won't have to go to work and sit on a very sore bum all day." His hands slipped up her sides, expertly pulling the offending garment over her head, disturbing her almost not at all, after which they began to take possession of various body parts, first descending on where her hands had been folded as if in prayer under her pillow and easily gathering them both into one of his own to pull them well up above her head.

That left her pretty much defenseless - as if she wasn't always round him whether she had the full use of her hands or not; the only thing that kept him from keeping her naked and tied to the bed at all times was his more gentlemanly side. He already knew entirely too much about her - like the fact that being rendered vulnerable got her gushingly wet.

Even when she was mostly asleep.

Tom would have said even more so when she was still asleep, because she was so relaxed and her mind didn't have a chance to argue with her body, which followed him as its master as much as it was allowed to by her.

Her quick, independent mind was always at odds with her body's deepest desires, unable to freely admit what she needed, forever trying to assert her sovereignty - her authority - over his.

Not that he allowed it. He enjoyed imposing his will on her - each and every time.

That big, free hand roamed her body, boldly claiming every bit of it for himself and leaving gooseflesh and tightly peaked nipples in its wake, although he had yet to touch her anywhere that was particularly intimate - teasing her with the undeniable reality of his possession but not deigning to touch her where she would want him to most.

But her body was already moving for him, arching back against him, offering herself to him, he noticed, his cock stiffening with a heady mixture of undeniable pride and rampant desire.

She was his, and he loved nothing better than to prove that to her over and over again. She was his drug - his heroin, his cocaine, and most definitely his ecstasy all rolled up into one. He'd never needed recreational drugs, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that whatever they could have given him dimmed to nothing in comparison to what he had with her. His mind was constantly filled with thoughts of her - the majority of them luridly sexual but a surprisingly large portion also just about how much he adored her - whether he should next surprise her with a spa day or her favorite lavender roses - even though she never asked him for anything other than more time with him - with memories of what she looked like innocently curled up in his arms, asleep, thoughts about what it was going to be like to grow old with her, surrounded by their children and grandchildren.

Right here, right now, though, he had awakened several minutes ago and his body was already rolling his hips against her, his cock unbearably engorged - as it always was by her mere presence, even - embarrassingly - in a crowded room.

He arranged her legs the way he wanted them, one long, muscular runner's leg remaining imposingly between hers, the other back a bit with hers hooked over it, giving her no choice but to do what he'd told her to do when he'd first awakened her. Had she been more fully conscious, Cat might have put up a better resistance, but she was still quite firmly in that area between awake and asleep and wasn't willing to disturb herself enough to do so - especially since it was a foregone conclusion that no matter how hard she fought him, he would _never, ever_ let her win.

But his next move couldn't have failed to bring her to full wakefulness if she was a week dead - he slid himself into her, very slowly and very deliberately, her plaintive moan as he sank in - balls deep - triggering his own involuntary one in response. Although she was slickness itself - as always - around him, she was so much smaller than he was - and he was so well endowed - that he could feel even her tiniest efforts to adjust to his presence within her, as well as her soft, almost pleading whimpers as she did so, and that alone was nearly enough to make him lose control.

He did not, however, as he ruthlessly clamped down on his own desires, concentrating on how much he adored touching her when she was helpless to stop him from doing so, gripping each breast at the base and squeezing tightly as he began to impose a rhythm on her body from which she could not escape, not giving her time to adjust to him but simply taking her, because he wanted her and he could.

Her nipples were treated more roughly than she would have admitted she preferred as he pinched and tugged and pulled on them cruelly, not that she wasn't moaning and writhing as he did so.

When he had had his fill of tormenting those sensitive buds, Tom let his hand wander to even more interesting territory, rubbing his ring, middle and index fingers over that most sensitive nub just as deliberately as he was fucking her, his arm across her hips holding her that much more securely against him, those beautiful breasts bobbing enticingly with each powerful plunge.

He took great pride in being able to make her cum even from a cold start, as this was, always humbled and incredibly aroused by just how quickly she caught up with him and then surpassed him. He found her ear and murmured firmly, "If you don't cum within my next five thrusts, I'm not going to allow you to until tomorrow morning."

Not that he wouldn't take her whenever he wanted to between now and then - he most certainly would - entirely for his own pleasure. She would be strictly prohibited from cumming, regardless of what he did to her.

"One."

Damn. The man knew what this kind of thing did to her! He had removed himself completely from her - not even leaving in the tip - then pistoned himself roughly back in until he couldn't cram any more of himself up into her. Cat felt as if she was being split in two, and she hated the fact that that only got her just that much hotter as she tried to move - in the slightest way - only to feel him simply contract his arm around her to still her completely.

He was already withdrawing again as he stepped up the dance of those fingers between her legs and she could feel it happening, no matter how she tried to stave it off, taking a very deep, completely involuntary breath that she knew would let him know that her release was imminent, not that it would effect him in the least, really. He would stop at five regardless of where she was.

She'd been left hanging too many times before - spending the day shifting uncomfortably even in her big, comfy office chair, distracted from her job by the persistent, throbbing between her legs that he had cruelly inspired then not fulfilled, wishing she didn't think he'd know - somehow - if she went to the bathroom and took care of herself.

And she shuddered to think what the punishment he would mete out would be for her taking matters into her own hands, which he had been one of the first things he'd prohibited when he'd become her dom.

"Two." As he sank himself into her for the second time - only three more in which to get where she desperately needed to go - ruthlessly keeping her still for his almost violent invasion, Tom settled his lips on her ear as his fingers continued to play insistently over her as she threw her head back against his shoulder, uttering an agonized sob. "Three."

He could feel that particular inner tightening that meant that he had succeeded in wresting the choice of what happened to her body away from her. "Dear God I love you when you're like this, being fucked and held fast and played with whether you want to be or not, desperate to cum while you're still allowed to." He turned her head and kissed her deeply and that was just what she needed as he drove himself into her again, whispering as he watched her hurtle uncontrollably over the edge into the abyss, feeling the tremendous satisfaction of having made her fly apart in his arms. But he couldn't stop there as his own body took over in the face of her complete - yet nevertheless highly restrained - loss of control.

As he fucked her hard, letting go of arms he knew were too exhausted to get in his way any more, in favor of grasping her hips in a grip that would leave undeniable evidence on that otherwise milky white flesh, he screamed as he lost his own battle to prolong the inevitable and cried out, " _Mine. This -_ " he thrust only a little less forcefully, "is _mine_."

As she was required, Catherine whispered, "I am yours, Tom," as he finally collapsed against her, still pulsating within her body.

Catherine'd never been with anyone who was as sexually voracious as Tom was. They made love at least once a day, usually more than that, and she had long since yielded to him the right to make her his whenever - and wherever - he liked.

He had been quite surprised by how easily she had acquiesced to that demand. They were well on their way to it by then, but at that point hadn't quite entirely embraced some aspects of the dominant/submissive vibe that had thrummed as an insistent, constantly arousing undercurrent of their relationship every since they'd met.

"I want more of you," he'd rasped as he finally withdrew his still considerable presence from her small body that fateful night more than a year ago, leaving her dazed and barely able to feel her extremities, panting helplessly, he'd made her cum so hard.

"Talk - later -" she'd barely gotten out between exhausted breaths, turning to fall onto her side, deliberately facing away from him, trying with little success to cobble together the shattered remains of herself. This man positively _destroyed_ her - every single time - unerringly, unendingly. It was as if he could look into her eyes and knew exactly what to say to her, what to do to her, to make her practically begin to orgasm uncontrollably from the second he reached for her with that single minded, frighteningly intense look in his eyes.

Catherine should have been able to predict it by then, but she was still surprised when - not very much later, she found herself gathered onto him - his every movement soothing and gentle, yet, at the same time firm and uncompromising - on her tummy, sprawled mostly over him, one of his enormous hands lazily rubbing the small of her back and the other tipping her chin up.

"Look at me, baby."

She opened her eyes to see those sparkling blue ones alive and avid, as if he hadn't just collapsed on her while shuddering spasmodically within her and incoherently moaning something that sounded like her name, but wasn't quite, as if she'd completely robbed his loquacious self of the ability to speak.

" _I_ want to talk about this _now_ ," he growled softly, shoving himself up inside her again, ignoring her startled gasp as his due - she had yet to be able come to terms with his size until long moments after he already fully possessed her, and he had to admit he liked that it was something she continued to struggle with. He would take any advantage he could get with her - even if it was the happy accident of birth that was his generous proportions.

And he fully intended to press this particular advantage to its fullest - talking about this thing he wanted from her very much when she was thoroughly exhausted and pliant and extra submissive - especially since she'd earned herself a spanking, too - as she always was just after he'd taken her.

"Please, no," she breathed, irregularly, he noticed, although he couldn't discern if it was because of his imposing presence within her or because she was still trying to recover from what he'd done to her such a short time ago.

For her part, Catherine could barely think, beyond wondering how she could have missed the fact that he was already full capable - even so soon afterward - when her crotch was practically lying _on top_ of his? How could he even _be_ so hard this quickly? He was like a teenager - always firm and fully capable - always ready to take her at a moment's notice.

He adjusted her so that she was perched even more fully over him only to slam himself up inside her to the hilt as he said sternly, " _Yes. Now_."

She tried to crawl away, to lever herself off of him, until, as he lifted her chin again so that she had no choice but to look him in the eye, he reached down and slapped his palm against a naked, already well warmed cheek, which caused her to arch against him rather than away from him, driving him even further into her.

Tom watched those beautiful hazel eyes fill with tears as he continued to deliver stinging swats, scolding as he did so, his voice soft but threateningly low, "You know better than that, Cat. Do you need _another_ , proper spanking to remind you how to behave correctly for me?"

Neither her already sore behind nor her complete exhaustion - whether at his hands or not - would deter him in the least, she knew, from doing exactly as he threatened, while he pumped himself slowly in and out of her, using his size and strength to easily subdue her. She wasn't going anywhere until he allowed it, and that meant not until he got what he wanted from her, one way or the other.

When she would have collapsed down onto him, he wound his hand - and partially up his arm - into her hair, holding her head back, breasts moving enticingly before him and catching his attention for a long moment as he watched her deep mauve nipples peak again under his eager gaze, marveling as always at the depth of her responsiveness to him.

Although it embarrassed her to no end to have to beg, considering the condition he'd left her bottom in less than twenty minutes ago the pleading words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them, "No, no more spanking, please."

Tom leaned up and captured her mouth as he continued to force himself into her, the fingers of his free hand holding her still at first, at the small of her back, then, when she was naturally caught on his rampant spike, they followed their very natural inclination to travel down her cleft, spreading her lips around him, making her whimper with embarrassment as he did so, which only served to ratchet his desire for her even further upwards.

Those curious digits followed the supple line of the inside of first one slender thigh and then the other, pulling her legs from where they had lain between his until they were so far apart so that she had no choice but to straddle him as, when he'd gotten her into the position he preferred, that hand returned to the small of her back as an understated restraint.

Softly, almost sweetly, he ordered, "Fold your arms behind your back, Catherine."

But she knew what he hadn't said - "And God help you if you move them before I'm done with you."

Cat hated it when he made her do that. Her back would be arched even more acutely, breasts in humiliatingly prominent relief, as if she was trying to entice him to molest her. And her hair was more than long enough that he did exactly what she expected him to do as soon as she obeyed him - grabbing both of her wrists as well as the long swathe of her hair into one firm hold at just about her mid-back.

And he did so knowing full well, the smug asshole, that limiting her like this, making her obey his silent dictates, would practically have her cumming in and of itself. He loved controlling her - and what was worse - what made her just that much more vulnerable to him was that he knew that _she_ loved it - that she absolutely _craved_ to be handled like this by him - too.

She was held immobile, as he caught her eyes and fucked her, not fast and furiously, like most other men might, but slowly - and powerfully - and with malice aforethought, making each hard, determined thrust count.

If she didn't whimper or cry out in some way, each and every time he hammered himself into her, then he wasn't doing it right, he'd whispered into her ear once.

When he had her where he wanted her, his other hand found her clit and simply lay his fingertips over that massively swollen blossom, the movements of his hips beneath her and her own as she was helplessly forced to meet and absorb the impact of his efforts naturally dragging them over that severely sensitive spot, loving the sound of her outrage when he occasionally curled them and she found her delicate tissues scraped by his short, well manicured nails.

But he didn't do that to her very often - only occasionally, to remind her that he _could_.

Tom watched her eagerly, his eyes never leaving her face and missing nothing about her from the biggest to the smallest of her responses as he gauged - as always with stunning accuracy - where she was in her journey, and as soon as he saw she was just about to have to completely surrender to him and the dictates of her own body, he stopped dead.

Her only consolation, in her own world of misery as he denied her the stimulation her body clamored restlessly for, was that she could see that muscle flex in his jaw and knew his teeth were firmly clamped shut and that he was having to fight his own possessive, aggressive inclination to simply _take_ her.

"Whose are you?" he ground out.

Surprised, she nonetheless showed absolutely no hesitation whatsoever, answering in a clear if breathless tone the exact way he expected her to, "I am yours, Tom."

At what he could see in her eyes was the unreserved truth she had spoken to him, he was wholly unable to stop himself from surging against her again, until a several strokes later he was finally - barely - able to exert his considerable will and still his hips.

"You are truly mine?"

"Yes, Sir.' Catherine wondered where this was going, trying to make her scattered brain think whether she'd done anything recently that might have him questioning her submission to him, her commitment to the lifestyle they had chosen and that she had thought was pretty goddamned perfect.

Tom could see the confusion in her eyes but wasn't sure whether what he was going to way to her would soothe or inflame it. "And you trust with all of you? _Every_ ," he jerked himself all the way in then pulled all the way out on each word, " _single . . . bit_?"

She tugged futilely at her wrists, pulling her own hair painfully trying to move her head, her breath hissing in through her own clenched teeth with every heavy invasion of her body by his. "Yes, Sir!"

"Good." He might have smiled, but his clenched jaw wouldn't allow it. "Because I want more from you."

"More, Sir?"

"Yes." He sat up suddenly, while she was still fully impaled by him, never relinquishing his hold on her, his free hand coming up to wrap around her throat, not pressing or choking in the least, merely holding her tightly. "From now on, I'm going to take you whenever, wherever and in whatever manner I want you. The only thing that will stop me is your safeword. If you fight me, I will subdue you and take you anyway."

He pulled down cruelly on her wrists and her hair, making her arch her back even further as he buried his face against first one breast then the other, tonguing her nipples, suckling till they were so swollen they stung even when he wasn't at them, worrying each tender bit with the edges of his teeth, holding her still as he availed himself of that which he already knew he very thoroughly owned.

"Am - I - disallowed - from - fighting - you?" she got out in breathless pants.

When he raised his head, his grin was devilish. "Now why would I tell you you can't do something that we both enjoy so much, even though the result is always a foregone conclusion?"

They had long since agreed that, in the spirit of their D/s relationship, he would not _ask_ her for what he wanted from her. He would tell her before implementing it, and she would be free to discuss any concerns she might have about whatever it was that he wanted from her.

But if she didn't speak up, if she didn't raise any objections, then she had given him her implicit consent.

And he wasn't at all above playing dirty and keeping her mouth so occupied she didn't have much of a chance to object, or playing with her body, which he knew almost too well, to distract her from protesting.

Not that she wasn't always free to talk to him at any time about any thing. She was and she knew it. And, as much of a natural dom as he was, Tom was also very sensitive and empathetic to her and he was very aware that he couldn't really read her mind. He watched over her like a hawk in all ways, but made it a point to check in with her frequently to make sure that she was happy with every aspect of their relationship, especially how he was handling her as her dom.

Luckily they were very in synch about what turned them on, and he had yet to really put a foot wrong in conjunction with what he had demanded from her, and the first thing he had charged her with - when he had assumed the mantle of responsibility that was this role in her life - was that she was always required to be completely honest with him.

She'd yet to register a complaint except for some small things that were very easily correctible, and that he had made _damned_ sure he _did_ correct them.

He hadn't come at her with a ton of rules when they'd first begun to delve into this, and she still didn't have a lot of them, but as they became more familiar with each other and she became more comfortable with him - and he always proved to her that he could be trusted to keep her safe - he was slowly guiding her more and more deeply into submission to him.

And each of them found that idea unbearably hot.

As he had waited for her to raise any more questions, he began to move boldly within her again, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head at the way her tight heat gripped him; she was so tiny that he could barely move within her, not that he ever let the marvelously tight fit deter him in any way from taking what he wanted from her.

The sight of her nearly sent him over the edge in and of itself - straddling him helplessly as she was, forced to take every bit of him, arms pinned behind her, gorgeous neck arched as her back was in order to keep her hair from being pulled, breasts jutting out and bouncing enticingly every time he pistoned his hips.

It was a big thing he was demanding of her, so, as he set his fingers back to where they had been, passively torturing her clit, he prompted, "No objections, baby?"

As soon as the pads of his fingers came in contact with her overheated jewel, her breath sped up and he knew this would be the end for her. As speech was suddenly a distant memory - all that came out from between those beautiful lips were sobs and moans and wails - he saw her shake her head back and forth and a satisfied smile curved across his lips as he held her down and nibbled the exposed length of her neck.

"Good. No panties as soon as you enter the house from now on, or I'll rip them off you when I see them."

He was extremely close himself but held off, knowing how the feeling of her helplessly spasming around his cock would bring him off immediately.

So he concentrated on her.

"I'm going to make you take that butt plug I bought and you'll wear it the next time I fuck you."

That got a long, low groan from her as her breath billowed past her full lips.

"And, soon, very soon, your days of orgasming whenever you like are going to be over. I'm going to control them very, very strictly - "

Tom was holding her so tightly that when it finally hit her she couldn't really even move with it and the sensory overload nearly had her fainting. Her only movements were those prompted by him drilling himself into her, and he gave her no relief at all, fucking her powerfully and leaving his fingers right where they were as he did so, coaxing her into riding the edge of a rolling orgasm that had no real beginning and no end in sight.

The strength of her contractions as she spasmed violently around him non-stop had him losing his hold on her to use his arms to reach behind him to brace himself as he slammed into her one last time, mindlessly, uncontrollably spurting within her as he heaved and sweated and swore and clutched her now limp, panting body to him, cradling her tenderly within his arms in a way that might have been considered undom-like, but was _very_ Tom-like, holding her to him as if she was the most precious thing in his world, like she might break if he exerted too much pressure, rubbing her back, kissing her hair and making sure she knew she was safe with him in her utter vulnerability as they both floated back down to Earth.


End file.
